


It's Fine, But It Hurts

by KanraKixystix



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clonecest in July, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Episode: s04e07 Darkness on Umbara, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25022470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanraKixystix/pseuds/KanraKixystix
Summary: They take who you are when you're reconditioned. They take what made you an individual, and not just another lamb for slaughter. At least, they try too.
Relationships: Dogma (Star Wars)/CT-5385 | Tup
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	It's Fine, But It Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> For the Clonecest in July Prompt Challenge  
> Prompt: Memories

He’s told that his name is Dogma, or at least that it used to be. Now, he only goes by his designation, CT-4731. Sometimes he thinks he hears someone calling him by the name he was given, an echo down the hall, or a whisper in his ear, but he never finds the source of the voice. Sometimes, he thinks he sees a shadow of someone, but that’s to be expected. After all, there are millions of clones moving about the galaxy at any given time, many of them stationed here on Kamino. To say he saw a shadow of someone that he used to know is to say that he saw a grain of sand on the beach. So, he tries to brush it off and pretends like he doesn’t hear anything. 

It goes on like this, for how long, he doesn’t know. It feels like forever, but he supposes that time is irrelevant in a situation such as this. He sees glimpses of shadows out of the corners of his vision, and he starts to hear laughter, a genuinely happy sound. At one point, he thinks that he feels something, someone, touch his cheek. It comes as quickly as a blink of an eye before it’s gone again, but it feels soft, familiar. 

He smiles. 

The tube that the Kaminoans have him sleep in are hardly big enough for one, he thinks as he climbs into bed one night, but he has a feeling that he used to share one with someone. Another clone, maybe? He knows that there are some that enjoy the company of another body next to them while they sleep, or perhaps they engage in other “activities” when they think no one is awake to hear. But he’s never done that, right? He’s never been particularly close to another _vode_. They all say that he’s too uptight, so wound around the regulations that he might as well be the spine of the manual. 

He argues that they’re in place for a reason, that they have to be upheld, otherwise they’ll never win the war, but he’s laughed at. Maybe he’s used to it, but he wishes that he had someone to lean back on once in a while to tell him that he isn’t different, that it was okay that he tried to follow the rules to the very best of his abilities. 

There are whispers about him amongst the halls lately. 

“He’s the one they brought back from Umbara.”

“I heard that he killed a  _ Jetii _ .”

“A stick like him? Yeah, right!”

He’s floored, to say the least. Umbara? Murdered a  _ Jetii _ ? That doesn’t sound like him.  _ Jetii _ are respectable, their word is law. Why would he want to bring harm to someone who only wants to do good in this war, bring peace amongst the galaxy? 

‘ _ Because they killed good men _ ,’ the back of his mind whispers. ‘ _ You know it’s true. _ ’ 

He gasps, alone in his bed, and tries to shake the voice from his head.

‘ _ They killed that Captain _ ,’ the voice says. ‘ _ You were there, saw his last breaths drawn. He left a  _ **_riduur_ ** _ behind _ .’

His eyes fly open, and he’s clutching his chest like he can’t breathe because...well, because he can’t. Flashes of a dark place form behind his eyes, and he’s able to piece a few things together. 

A Captain donned in yellow bleeding out from a blaster wound. Two troopers standing against a wall facing down a line of  _ vode _ with blasters pointed at them. A four-armed  _ Jetii _ demeaning a blond clone in front of everyone, suddenly dead on the floor of a jail cell. 

A man with a teardrop tattoo and pulled back hair smiling at him, kissing his cheek with promises that they’ll see each other again one day. He looks sad, scared as he whispers to him. 

“ _ I’ll find you, Dogma. I promise. _ ” 

Tears stream down Dogma’s face when he warped back to the present, and he hears the concerned rustle of  _ vode _ looking at him, too scared to confront him. He’s thankful for that, because he wouldn’t be able to talk anyway without releasing the sobs that are lodged in his throat. He climbs down from the bed and runs, desperate to find someplace private, anywhere. 

His feet take him to the ‘fresher, and he’s thankful that it’s empty considering it’s the middle of the day. When the door closes, and he double checks that no one will hear him, he wails. Memories come rushing back to him in waves, and a torrent of emotions wash over him as he shakes and falls to his knees. Some are still foggy, but there is one that’s clear, of a passionate night where regulations had no place, and the feel of another’s body making him feel good, making him feel loved in a way he’s never felt before. 

Dogma wretches onto the tile floor, and he slams the wall as he tries to find the nozzle for the water to rinse it down the drain. He was someone before this, someone who made a difference, who stood up for an injustice brought upon his  _ vode _ , and the Kaminoans were trying to take that from him. 

With a shaky hand, he wipes his mouth, finally muttering the name on his lips. 

“Tup...I’ll find you. I promise.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a Translations:
> 
> Vode: Brothers  
> Jetii: Jedi  
> Riduur: Partner/Spouse


End file.
